


Between the Stacks

by rowofstars



Series: The Between Verse [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Clothed Sex, Established Relationship, F/M, Library Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Series, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-06-05
Packaged: 2018-04-02 23:15:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4077487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowofstars/pseuds/rowofstars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumple, Belle, and library porn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between the Stacks

**Author's Note:**

> My first posted Rumbelle smut! Inspired by this gorgeous fanart: http://licieoic.tumblr.com/post/120465831194/in-the-stacks-digital-oil-painting-i-couldnt

The library looked empty when Rumplestiltskin entered, shaking off the raindrops that spattered his coat. He glanced behind the circulation desk at the front and saw Belle’s purse stashed under the counter, her jacket hung on the back of the tall chair, and then went wandering through the shelves, looking for his true love.

He found her shelving books in the poetry section and startled her by peeking through the double-sided shelf from between two large volumes by some Lord named Byron. There was a vague memory in the back of Gold’s mind of reading such a thing in school, but of course none of that was real or even belonged to him. It had been quite amusing, though, to hear her little shriek and the thud of books that dropped to the floor.

She demanded he help her clean them up and put them away, but he’d become very distracted by the sight of her shapely rear end and legs, made to look miles long by her four inch heels.

Belle gasped as the blunt edge of the bookshelf dug into her back.

“Rumple!” she hissed as he pressed against her, her fingers tightening over his shoulders. “Someone could come in!”

He grinned against her neck and nipped her pulse point, letting his cane lean against one of the bookcases. “I locked the door.”

She laughed, a low, rumbly sound, and tilted her head back as much as she could to give him better access. He kissed and nibbled and licked his way down the right side of her neck, across her jaw, and back up the other side to her ear.

“I missed you,” he whispered, and she sighed happily.

Sometimes knowing she was just across the street, happily cataloging an entire building of books, was torture. Even though they had gotten their relationship back on track and all their spare time was spent with each other, he hated being apart from her. He wished he could go back to their life in the Enchanted Forest, the two of them living in the Dark Castle with no one else for miles.

He had always been a very selfish man.

“I missed you too,” she answered, slipping her fingers into his hair. “It’s been a long week.”

He nodded, nuzzling her cheek, and tried not to think about how every attempt to be alone or to escape back to their now shared house in the last eight days was met with emergencies, magical catastrophes, and _Regina_. He especially tried not to think about that last one. 

Belle’s blouse was a cream colored silk that stopped just short of being sheer. He pulled back and could see the lace texture of her bra through the thin shirt. Her skirt was, thankfully, not one of her usual slim fitting pencil skirts, but pleated and flared over her knees so it fluttered when she walked. As soon as she’d come down the stairs that morning he’d wanted to take her right back up to the bedroom and fuck her senseless.

“Let’s go home,” he said softly. 

She smiled and sighed as he pressed soft kisses to any bit of skin he could reach, her cheeks and forehead, her chin and the tip of her nose. “The library doesn’t close for another two hours,” she replied.

“You’re the head librarian,” he countered.

Her laugh change to a moan as his hands moved up her sides and then cupped her breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze through her blouse. “I’m the _only_ librarian, Rumple.”

Rumplestiltskin smiled again as the pace of her breathing picked up and her nipples puckered through the layers of flimsy fabric to push against his palms. “Exactly,” he replied. “And I’m the only employee at my shop. We’re our own bosses, we can close any time we like.”

Belle licked her lips as her back arched in response to his hands on her chest. “We’re in a public building,” she said. “You should behave.”

“Oh, I am, sweetheart.” 

He started unbuttoning her blouse slowly, trying to keep his hands from shaking. Everything was still a bit new and exciting, and he was convinced that at any moment she’d see reason and change her mind about loving him. Or something would take her away, as it always seemed to do with those he loved.

She hummed and shook her head. “No, you’re not.”

“Oh, but I am,” he said with a smirk. He reached the last button, just above the waistband of her skirt, which left the blouse loose enough that he could open it and see her lace clad breasts. “I’m being very, _very_ good.”

Dipping his head, he licked her bare skin, then raised up to suck on the spot where her neck met her collarbone. He alternated between sucking gently and grazing it with his teeth. He desperately wanted to leave a mark there, somewhere everyone would see and know that she belonged to him, but he wasn’t sure if she would appreciate that. He’d done enough things to make her upset with him in their short time together.

Belle bit her lip and groaned her appreciation as he lifted her breasts out of her bra and rubbed his thumbs over the hardened peaks. She’d been so mad at him for going after Regina, for not being honest with her, but then he’d given her this library, taken her on dates, and she found it so easy to forgive him. It wasn’t as if she didn’t think Regina deserved punishment for keeping them apart, for kidnapping her in the Enchanted Forest and for keeping her locked up for twenty-eight years in Storybrooke. But Rumplestiltskin’s way was to lash out, murder in the name of vengeance, and she wouldn’t have him do that for her sake.

The grim thoughts left her immediately as he tugged on her aching nipples, wrenching a gasp from her throat. “Rumple -”

It was all she got out before he cut her off, sealing his mouth over hers. She clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and rubbing her bare breasts against his clothed chest. The sensation was wonderful, both the feel of him pressed against her and the way his tongue explored her mouth. His arms had gone around her, holding her away from the hard edges of the shelves and books.

One of her hands came up and delved into his hair, pulling a little on the soft, greying strands. He moaned into her mouth and then pulled away, pushing her back against the bookcases once more. His bad leg pushed between hers as his hands lifted her skirt up to her waist. She gasped again at the little bit of friction from his thigh right where she needed it. It felt so good and soon she was practically riding him. He was too aroused to notice any pain and only too happy to let her turn a part of him he’d always hated into something that gave her pleasure.

He braced a hand on the shelf by her head, needing the extra support to keep them from toppling to the ground as he leaned all of his weight on his one good leg. He was grateful there were so many large, heavy books in this section to keep everything from falling over. The last thing he needed was a series of shelving toppling over like dominos. His other hand slid up her bare thigh and he thanked every god he knew of in this world and theirs that she hadn’t put on her usual tights that morning.

Her breath hitched when one of his fingers slipped under the edge of her underwear, tracing her embarrassingly wet slit. Her hips jerked forward as he brushed her clit, once, twice, and then settled into a maddenly soft, slow circling pattern.

“So wet,” he breathed over the shell of her ear. “All for me?”

She hissed out a yes and he sucked her earlobe into his mouth, dragging his teeth over it.

“Oh -” was all she was able to get out, lost in overwhelming sensations and emotions as he touched her. She followed with a straggled please, and the pressure and rubbing over her clit grew firmer. It still wasn’t quite what she wanted, and she bit her lip in frustration.

At first, things had been slow and tentative between them, but it wasn’t long before they’d both given up on feeling any shame at how passionately they wanted each other. She wasn’t afraid of what she felt, how her body responded to him, of that dizzy, flying feeling as she came apart for him.

He lifted his head to look at her, delighting in her open, gasping mouth, lips swollen and red from kissing. Her head rolled side to side, mussing her hair against the book bindings. The shelf shook as she writhed under his hand. She was going to be a mess when he was done with her, a beautiful, gorgeous mess.

Her hand tightened in his hair, her nails digging into the back of his neck. He didn’t care and was focused solely on making her come. He switched to using his thumb on her clit so he could push two fingers into her, seeking the soft little spot that he knew would be her undoing.

She cried out at the feeling of his fingers in her, filling her just enough, and pumped her hips against them, wanting everything to be harder and faster and just... more. He must have understood because he pressed deeper and curled them up to find the right spot while his thumb never ceased its torment of her almost overly sensitive nub.

“Look at me,” he pleaded. “ _Belle_.”

Her eyelids felt so heavy but at the sound of her name, so desperate and strained, she forced them open and looked up at him. Every thrust of his fingers made her want to squeeze her eyes shut again, but she held his gaze and lost herself in the deep, golden brown. All she could hear was her own ragged breathing and the wet, squelching sound of his fingers fucking her.

His voice was as hoarse as hers was, and his throat felt too dry. “Beautiful. My beautiful, brave Belle.”

She moaned and arched her back, eyes closing again, wanting and needing just that little bit more. But then he slowed down, pulled his fingers out of her and left her with only a light touch on her clit. She wanted to scream in frustration, but bit her lip hard instead.

“Open your eyes,” he said, and she did, again.

He looked as fevered as she did, his eyes almost black, his erection pressing hard on her thigh, and she wished they were at home in their bed, or at least near a table or desk. Any flat surface would do at this point. She needed him inside her, but she also just wanted to come so badly. The hand that was on his neck, slid down to wrap around his tie and pull him forward. Their mouths mashed together, desperate and inelegant because they were both too far gone to care. She sucked on his lower lip, bit it lightly, and the noise he made was almost a growl.

At that his fingers were back inside her, pushing hard and fast, crooked against that perfect spot he now found with ease. His palm rubbed against her clit, rough from years of working with his hands, and it was glorious. Her hips rocked into his hand, her orgasm building quickly, putting her right at the edge in moments.

“ _Oh_ \- Rum - ah,” she couldn’t speak, only gasp and moan and squeak out bits of his name.

“That’s it,” he said, his breath hot over her lips. He watched her face as her eyes fluttered closed, her breaths turned to needy pants. “Let it happen, sweetheart. Come for me.”

Belle let her head fall back and knock against the wood shelf. She was right there, so close, and it was so, so good, better than she’d ever thought it could be from all the books she’d ever read about true love. Not one of them ever mentioned this, loving and sex and the roar of her heart in her ears. She made a choked sound, cried out, and then everything shattered inside her, bright and sharp and utterly blissful.

There was a hot rush of liquid over his hand as her body clamped down on his fingers. He heard her stifled cry, but kept his fingers moving in her, slowing after a moment, easing her through the last flutters of her orgasm. 

She sagged against the bookcase and opened her eyes, though they were still dark and heavy lidded. He smirked and pulled his hand from her, catching the slight whimper she let out, and raised his hand to his mouth to suck his fingers clean. The taste of her flooded his tongue and he moaned.

“Gorgeous,” he whispered.

He was still hard against her thigh, and she reached down to palm his erection. His hips bucked into her hand and she grinned. Her shirt was still open, her breasts bared and her bra pushed down under them. His hair was near chaos from her hands running through it, and there were parts of both of them that were sticky and wet. 

They were a perfect mess.

“You were _very_ good,” she said, as she started to put herself back together. Her voice was low and rough, laden with the aftermath of her pleasure. After buttoning up her blouse, her hands settled on his belt and started to undo it, but he brought a hand down and stopped her.

“I thought it was your turn now?” she asked, smirking.

He winced and shook his head, rubbing at the ache in his thigh. “My leg, it’s -” He threw up a hand and sighed, annoyed once again at his useless, old body.

“Hey,” she said softly, touching her palm to his cheek. “It’s okay. I’m sorry. I was -” she gestured awkwardly and turned a little red when she realized she’d basically been humping his leg, “ _on_ you and I didn’t even think -”

“Don’t _ever_ apologize for that,” he replied, lifting a hand to brush against her jaw. “I just need to stretch it out a little, that’s all.”

She gave him a small smile, that slowly turned into a naughty grin with her bottom lip caught between her teeth. “Since we’ve already closed,” she said, “why don’t we go home? And you can _stretch_ out in bed?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, licked her lips, and he grinned back at her as his mind flooded with all the things he couldn’t wait to do to her. His turn be damned, he was going to make this wonderful, beautiful, perfect woman forget everything but his name as she screamed it in ecstasy. 

“I can’t think of anything I’d like better.”


End file.
